


Neither Here Nor There

by bigbrotherandlittlebrother



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind Sam, Bottom Sam, Hurt Sam Winchester, Kidnapped Sam, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7928596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbrotherandlittlebrother/pseuds/bigbrotherandlittlebrother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it's hard to forget him because you know you'll always remember</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neither Here Nor There

**Author's Note:**

> This is pre-series. I'm imagining Sam to be around 15 and Dean 19

**Prologue**

  
  


They pull into a small grocery store at half past ten. The parking lot is dark, no moon in sight. If there weren't street lights scattered around, they probably wouldn't be able to see anything ahead of the car.

  
The crickets are soothing and Dean looks out the window, tries to find them with his naked eye. It’s a pretty impossible task, Dean’s not stupid, but he has nothing else to occupy his mind with, so he thinks, why the hell not.   
  
Sam’s in the backseat, curled up small. He’s cushioning himself with his elbow, a slight snore coming from his mouth. Dean smiles, laughs lightly enough so that Sam doesn’t hear, then turns to face his father.    
  
He sees John writing something in his journal. He’s got stress lines on his forehead and his brows are tightly knitted. He hears him sigh before John says, “All right, I’m going in. I’ll get some canned food for you boys. Some milk and stuff. Stay here.” And then John readies himself before exiting the car. Dean nods, takes off his jacket and rests it beneath his head.    
  
He’s asleep in minutes and when John comes back and asks where Sam had gone, Dean doesn’t have an answer.    
  
  
The night used to be a calming thing for Dean. When he was younger, he’d pull a sleepy Sam into his arms, 3 hours past midnight, and gather them onto the hood of the impala. Sam would wake up -- because he always did -- and he’d tell Dean about the stars, show him the constellations and the stories behind them. And sometimes that's how John would find them, sound asleep with their hands locked together, so he’d bring out a blanket to drape over them both, and he’d sit there beside them and drink his beer.    
  


But that was before Sam had gone missing    
  
Now, the night is haunting. All he sees are images of Sam being dragged off, kicking and screaming, his voice sore and hoarse.    
  
Dean starts sleeping with the light on.    
  
  
They find him 6 months and 11 days later, chained to a wall. His wrists and ankles are coated with blood, so much blood, too much blood and when Sam opens his eyes to look at Dean, they are clouded, grey and absent.   
  
Dean tells himself not to worry about it, not right now. Worry about getting Sam out of here first, before those bastards come back. But all he can see is Sam, searching for something he can’t seem to find.   
  
So Dean looks him over, just in case Sam’s missing a limb or his insides have fallen out. All he finds though, is a dark red stain on the back of Sam’s boxers and a foot turned at an awkward angle.    
  
He doesn't think about either as he carries him out.    
  
On the road Sam is quiet, not making those horrible whimpers and wails he was making before. His breath isn't hitching, hes not even moving. If Dean didn't have his hand over Sam’s middle, feeling his ribs move up and down, he would’ve been sure Sam was dead.    
  
The doctors tell them that Sam is permanently blind in both eyes, and if that doesn't make Dean's stomach do a flop, hearing Sam had been sexually assaulted, does. He gets up as fast as he can and vomits into a trash bin. Afterwards he buries his head in his hands and weeps. He doesn't care that there are people watching, he thinks that someone else in this god-forsaken hospital is probably doing the same thing anyway.    
  
When John comes in, pats his back and tells him that “Sam could be seen now”, he stops crying, and a smile is replaced in an instant.    
  
Sam looks frail on the hospital bed, he's so pale, the sheets don't look much different from him. Dean moves forwards and gently takes Sam’s hand in his own, careful of the wires and bruises, and brings his mouth to the torn up knuckles. He doesn't care that John is there. Even though he can feel his questioning stare, he never turns around to acknowledge him. His eyes never leave Sam.   
  
They take him home a month later.


End file.
